


I'm Just A (Spider-)Man

by KindaJustChillin



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Everyone Loves Peter Parker, F/M, Genius Peter Parker, Good Peter, More tags to be added, Multi, Peter Parker Lacks Self-Preservation Instincts, Peter Parker gets powerful, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Self-Insert, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, The Icebox Prison, Tortured Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindaJustChillin/pseuds/KindaJustChillin
Summary: One day, you wake up inhabiting the body of a Friendly Neighborhood Spider. You have all of Peter Parker's memories, and your own, which includes a depressingly large amount about the Marvel Universe. Traversing through the Marvel Universe with a lot of MCU events intertwined with the X-Men and Defenders is always an adventure. Becoming Spider-Man. Accepting your role. Becoming more powerful than a regular Friendly Neighborhood Spidey. Forming relationships. Stopping bad guys. Should be a long but fun fic. Not a One-shot, I just don't know how to use AO3.Or:You wake up as Spider-Man post Iron Man 1 and Incredible Hulk. But Spider-Man is 9 years ahead of schedule and has been doing this for 4 years. Have some fun as your first interaction is with the one, the only, Thaddeus Ross.
Relationships: Jean Grey/Peter Parker, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Danny Rand, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & X-Men Team
Comments: 30
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Spider](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/648859) by I'mjusttryingtofindmyway. 



Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel, Spider-Man or anything else like that. Shocker right?  
*********************************************************************  
Chapter 1: 4 Times in 1 Day  
A shock ran through my body like a wildfire. 

“Wake up Spider-Man” a voice snarled through the darkness.

I slowly raised my head and looked up, staring at the person in front of me. I glimpsed a thick mustache and a head of gray hair before suddenly being shocked again. I looked down at the metal rod poked into my ribs, crackling with electricity. The holder was dressed in full black body armor with a sadistic grin on his face. 

“What the fuck man?!” I asked, my voice furious.

“Did I say you could speak?” The man with gray hair spoke again.  
Before I could offer an angry retort, my head was being slammed into the shiny metal table in front of me. Right before my head made contact, I saw my reflection in the table. A pale face and brown hair stared back at me, one that I only recognized from movies and comic books. As my head hit the table, I blacked out again, losing consciousness in something that seemed surprisingly familiar. 

When I woke up, I wasn’t in the same dark room as before. I was in a room of pure white walls, bright lights hitting my eyes, momentarily blinding me. I tried to cover my eyes with my hands, until I realized they were cuffed against a chair. I tugged against them with all my strength and they quickly snapped. I stared down at my hands, confused as to how I’d broken handcuffs that quickly when suddenly a dozen men in the same black armor as before came in with the man with the gray hair in the back commanding them forwards. A brief flash of recognition came to me as I realized where I had seen that face before. Right in front of me was Thaddeus Ross, the general, the secretary of state, as memories came flooding to me. 

“I’m going crazy” I muttered to myself as I was forced down to the ground by the men who now all had their guns pointed at me. 

“Try to escape one more time, and I won’t be this nice” The voice of Ross echoed through the room. “Alright men, clear out, it’s time for me to introduce the prisoner to his new home."

‘Prisoner? I’ve never done anything illegal in my life’ I thought as Ross took a seat in front of me, my arms now tied to the chair with something much, much stronger than before.

“Don’t try breaking out of those cuffs again, it’s pointless now, they’re made from adamantium, you couldn’t break out if you tried.”

Ross continued his monologue. “Peter Parker, also known as Spider-Man, you are currently being held for your actions as a vigilante. As a being with ‘special’ powers, you are being held at a hyper-secure facility for mutants and mutates known as the Icebox. You have the honor of being the third person to be admitted to this prison. From here on out, you will only be addressed as Prisoner IX-2 as you are the second mutate to be held in this prison. There are a few basic rules to go over.” Ross paused for a second with a smirk on his face. He proceeded with his speech.

“  
1\. You will be wearing a shock collar and power dampener at all times.  
2\. You will not speak to a guard or to me without being spoken to  
3\. You will not resist any actions taken by the Icebox personnel  
4\. You will not speak back to any Icebox Personnel  
5\. Any attempts to escape and failure to follow the prior rules will lead to being shocked, or worse  
“

“Are those rules clear?”  
“Nope, that was altogether too complicated, can you please go over them again?” I smiled sweetly, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ross decided to have his first use of the shock collar. I had barely noticed the metal band around my throat, but now I could feel the power flowing through it burning my entire body from the inside continuing for a few seconds before finally stopping. 

“What the hell man? I said I didn’t understand the rules, why would you do that?” I grinned at him, clearly mocking him.

Ross upped the voltage to one that would knock me out. 

“Are you fucking joking, that’s the third time today” I groaned as I slowly began to lose consciousness.

“Take him to Cell Block A” were the last words I heard before fully blacking out.  
Needless to say, I was pissed when I woke up from being unconscious for the third time in 1 day. Scratch that. I was beyond pissed. I was fucking angry. Not to mention confused. As I came to, I was finally alone. I was on a hard mattress on the ground in a bright white cell, but at least I could think. I kept being called Peter Parker, Spider-Man, a vigilante. That man was Ross. I was in the Icebox. Every single thing I recognized from the marvel universe. I looked up into the shining white and again saw the unfamiliar face of Peter Parker staring back at me. I looked into my memories to try to remember what had happened, when I was met with a sudden overflow that felt as if two minds were coming to be one. My head began to throb as all of Peter Parker’s memories came to me. Hearing about my parents’ death. Seeing Uncle Ben die. Becoming Spider-Man to honor him. But I still remembered who I was. All the comics I read. All the movies. Everything I knew about this universe stayed with me. But I now was Peter Parker, Spider-Man, the menace, whatever you wanted to call me. I’d been knocked out and tased too many times for this to be a dream. ‘What in the absolute motherfucking hell happened to me?’

I thought about all the Marvel storylines and realized with a start, that Spider-Man had never been sent to the Icebox. I pondered how that was even possible, how was I in the Marvel Universe, and how had canon already been broken beyond belief. What was I going to do? For all intents and purposes, I was now Peter Parker and was now in prison. Was I going to escape? Was I going to be a hero? Was I going to be stuck here in the Icebox forever? I would wonder if I was going home, but what was home anyways? I didn’t have much to go back to. All I know though, is that I’m a stranger in Spider-Man’s body, and I know way more than I should about this universe, no matter how fucked up it already is. 

Obviously, I’m not the fifteen-year-old Spider-Man, so what year was this? I glimpsed back through Peter Parker’s memories again as they continued meshing with mine, realizing that in this universe, Spider-Man was born 9 years early. Everything that happened to me, my entire origin story was 9 years ahead of schedule. I don’t know exactly what happened to cause that or how that would work, but the origin seems identical. It seems that Peter is 19, which means that it’s 2011. Before the Avengers even happened. I’m pretty confused, but my goal now is to escape the Icebox first, and then figure this shit out. I sat in silence pondering the new information I had gathered, before realizing that there was nothing I could do at the moment. I needed something to happen first. 

So, I waited. What else could I do? I was trapped in a cubic cell with nothing else and no one to talk to. I remembered that Ross had said that there were two other prisoners, but I didn’t see anyone in the other cells. I waited about half an hour before I saw a woman being dragged back to her cell by two guards. She was thrown into the cell across from me, and I noted that she was about the same age as me. She was a beautiful redhead, but I didn’t see her face long enough to recognize her. She was sprawled out face-down on her mattress, clearly unconscious.  
I waited another two hours before she started to shift around as she groaned. She flipped so she was facing upwards. She seemed to catch a glimpse of me as she shot up now facing me. I looked at her, noticing her startling emerald green eyes that seemed perfectly in place on her beautiful face. This was Jean Grey I realized. Jean Grey, one of the most accomplished telepaths in the world and the host of the all-powerful Phoenix Force. I was scared for a second, as I thought she would read my mind and find out all about this crazy shit that’s going on before noticing a similar shock collar and power dampener on her. 

“So, are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to speak?” Jean spoke, her voice startling me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry about that, I just thought you looked familiar,” I responded.

“Not likely, I was put here 6 months ago and before that, not many people knew I existed. Anyways, we don’t get new guys often, so what’s your deal?”

“What’s my deal?”

“Yeah, like, who are you?”

‘Good question’ I mused to myself before responding.  
“Peter”

“No last name?”

“Not until you tell me who you are”

“Fine…. I’m Jean Grey”

“Easier than I thought. I’m Peter Parker.”

“So Peter Parker, why are you here?”

“I just wanted to take a relaxing vacation. It was getting a bit hot so I thought it would be nice to go somewhere cold for once. This is cozier than I expected.”

Jean just stared at me and narrowed her eyes. I stared right back. She broke eye contact and chuckled a little bit. 

“It’s nice to finally have someone to talk to, I was going insane being here alone”

“Alone? Ross said there was a third prisoner”

“There is but he’s kept in a special cell block. He’s slightly different from you and I.”

“How so?”

“I only met him once, but I honestly think he is insane.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Not that I know” Jean casually responded.

“So, Jean, I heard this was a place for mutants and mutates, so what are your powers?” 

I of course already knew the answer to that, but I had to keep up the appearances of lacking that knowledge. 

“…. If you tell me your powers, I will tell you mine.”

“Deal” I immediately responded. What the hell right? I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and I know that apart from that whole Dark Phoenix fiasco, I can trust Jean.

“Alright so, I’m sticky”

“…. what?”

I just beamed at her in response. She looked both thoroughly confused and disturbed. My grin didn’t falter.

“I can stick to pretty much anything which means I can climb pretty much anything. Oh, I’ve also got enhanced senses. And super strength, enhanced reflexes, enhanced healing, and something I like to call my Spidey-Sense.”

She stared at me for a second, trying to decipher if I was joking or not. She decided that I wasn’t.

“So, what exactly is a Spidey-Sense?”

“You know how Spiders run away before someone can step on them? It’s like that. I get a bit of an early warning system for when danger is about to strike, it’s kinda like a tingling sensation.”

“Wait… spiders…. You’re that Spider-Man guy who swings around New York aren’t you?”

I made a deep bow. “At your service milady.”

Jean blushed for a second before asking a follow up question.

“Do those webs come out of you?”

I stood up straight and responded, voice full of pride. “Yup, they come out of my butt like a real spider! Wanna see?”

Jean dryly stared at me, disgusted at my explanation and offer. After looking at her for 20 seconds, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I bent over as I burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry but you should see your face right now. I was just joking anyways I have mechanical web shooters and I make the webbing in a lab.” 

Jean glared at me for another 5 seconds before finally relenting. 

“That’s pretty impressive. Those webs seem strong.” It seemed like Jean wanted to ignore what had happened a few seconds ago. I wasn’t going to complain.  
It took me a second before I realized that I had all of Peter’s scientific genius as well as my knowledge of the most advanced science that has occurred in the Marvel Universe. Maybe that would become useful in the future

“Jean, if I recall correctly, this was a trade of knowledge. What are your powers?”

“I’ve only realized I had these powers relatively recent. I found out when I was 14, but I tried to ignore them until about a year ago, when I turned 18. I have telepathy and telekinesis meaning I can move stuff with my mind and read minds.”

I realized suddenly that she had no clue how powerful she truly was. In fact, it seems like she hasn’t been trained at all. She must not have met Xavier yet. 

“Do you ever have trouble controlling them? Or do you have to actively try to read people’s minds?”

“I heard people’s thoughts easily, and they were too loud. I learned how to quiet them a bit, but I’ve always had to avoid large crowds and parties since then. Now it’s completely silent.” She gestured to the power dampener. 

“Damn, at least I know how you feel, never going to parties. I was always considered too much of a nerd to be invited.”

“Yeah, it’s not like I was invited to their parties anyways. I was always kind of shy and I guess they thought I didn’t look good enough and wasn’t popular enough to be there anyways.”

“Well, you most definitely look good enough to me.”

Her cheeks turned pink as she looked away.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
“Damn it, motherfucking, piece of shit.”

A steady stream of curses flew out of Nick Fury’s mouth as he paced the room.

Maria Hill glanced up from her paperwork with a questioning look on her face. 

“Sir?”

Fury turned his glare on her. 

“You know that doesn’t work on me Director Fury. So, what’s the cause of the curses this time? Stark again?”

“No, it’s Spider-Man. He’s been working in New York for the past 4 years and the second we look for him, he disappears of the face of the Earth.

“And why exactly are you looking for him? Isn’t he just a small-time vigilante who deals with petty crooks?”

“Yes, but if you’ve paid attention, you would notice that he most definitely has some powers. He is much more agile and strong than he seems to be. He was being considered for the Avengers Initiative before he suddenly disappeared. Hence my anger.”

“Do you think he knows you were after him?”

“No one in S.H.I.E.L.D knows, hell there isn’t even a file. This is something else.”

“He’ll turn up eventually. At least we have some good news as well now. We almost have Selvig convinced to help us.”

Fury grumbled. 

“At least it’s something” he muttered under his breath.  
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“Jean, what exactly happens here in the Icebox?”

“You don’t want to know….”

“Well it’s gonna happen to me anyways, might as well be prepared.”

“Pete don’t say I didn’t warn you. We get fed slop twice a day. Taken for a shower every other day. In case you are wondering, the water is indeed cold.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from the 'Ice'box” I said, emphasizing the 'Ice'

“That was…. bad” Jean suppressed a smile.

“You wound me Jean” I playacted, clutching my heart and falling to the ground.

“Deservedly”

“…”  
“…”  
“rude.”

“Anyways Jean, let’s continue, I want to learn more about this beautiful resort. Is there a sauna?”

“Nope, but they do have an experimentation room and a torture room” Jean smiled sweetly.

I went pale and my heart dropped. I couldn’t bear the thought of annoying being tortured, much less someone as nice as Jean.

“Have they hurt you?” I asked in a low voice.

“Not too badly, their experiments are to figure out what are powers are and the torture is for information about them. They already have both on me, I’ve got the X Gene apparently. Now they just do a bit of shocking and some blood samples, I'm convinced part of it is just for the fun they seem to have.”

“That’s not something you should be getting used to” I nearly whispered.

“I can take it, and I’m guessing that you have the X Gene as well, so it shouldn’t be too bad.” She paused. “It definitely isn’t fun though” She added darkly. 

“I don’t have the X gene. I’m a mutate. I developed my powers other ways” I said solemnly.

“…. that’s not good,” Jean grimaced.

“I can take it” I added with a pained smile.

“Jean, have they ever taken the power suppressors off?” I asked.

“Never, why do you ask?”

I glanced around, seeing if any guards were nearby. 

“No reason” I answered quickly before going into deep thought.  
Maybe I can figure out some way to get these stupid things off. With that thought in my mind, I began to sit back down when I saw 2 guards walking down the hall towards me. They opened the prison cell.

“IX-2, it’s time for your first information session.”

I saw that same sadistic smile that every guard around here seemed to carry. 

“So, I heard that there was a sauna. Is the interrogation room near there? Can we stop for a quick soak?”

The guard prodded my ribs, electrifying me with those obnoxious taser rods.

“Peter!” Jean gasped as she saw me getting electrocuted.

I forced myself to smile up at her and give her a wave.

“I’m fine Jean, don’t worry, I’ve taken a lot worse than a little electricity.”

“So, should I call you Mr. Guard? Because I don’t know your name, and how can we be friends if I don’t know your name?”

“Shut it IX-2, unless you want me to utilize that collar of yours.”

“…. I just wanted to use the sauna man; you know how it is” I smiled at him.

“I’m not hearing a no” I continued.

The other guard pressed a button in his hand and suddenly I felt my body convulse in response to the electricity. I looked up at him again.

“That was shockingly painful” I winked at Jean.

She seemed to be having trouble suppressing her smile. 

“IX-2, last warning.”

“JUST ANSWER ME, CAN I USE YOUR DAMN SAUNA?!” I screamed at them.

I heard muffled laughter coming from Jean’s direction. 

I saw the guard dial up the voltage to a point where it would be able to knock me unconscious again and he pressed the button.

“This has to be a fucking joke” I said right before I passed out. For the 4th time that day. Fuck.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
I woke up in a room similar to the cell, except instead of a mattress, there was a table, which I was strapped down to, with those same Adamantium cuffs as before. And instead of Jean’s face, I saw the face of a muscular man, he seemed to be around 6’1, and had jet black hair. He grinned at me with that same fuckin sadistic smile. Seriously, is that required to get a damn job here? He was flanked by a few people that seemed to be in lab coats. 

“Hello IX-2, I’m to be your questioner for your information sessions. If you give me the answers I’m looking for it should be relatively quick and painless.”

“Alright fine, my name is Peter and I have a drinking problem. I hope you can all help me with this issue.”

I waited a second.  
“What? No ‘Hi Peter’? What kind of crackass AA meeting is this?”

The man looked at me again, eyes full of hatred, and without warning he slapped me as hard as he could. I could feel the welt beginning to form, but I was determined to ride this out without giving in. Besides, this was nothing, a little slap wouldn’t cause much harm. 

“Nice slap dude. Can you do it again? You’re such a good kid” I said in my most patronizing voice. 

The man just growled in response and it seemed like he had decided to ignore what I had to say for the time being. I saw a cart being rolled in the back doors and noticed it was filled with knives, pliers, an acetylene torch, a fire poker, and more fun things.

“Man you got a torture cart? That’s so cool! I mean, a bit cliché, like switch it up a bit, but still those things I only see in the movies.”

“What is your name?” The man said in a dark tone.

I, being the genius that I was, knew that they already knew my name. I also realized however, that it was an interrogation technique, and by giving in, even a little, I gave them powers. So, I continued my fun times with this guy. These personnel are literally offering themselves up for it at this point.

“My name is Peter, with a B”

“Where’s the B?”

I cracked up.

“There’s a bee? Where?! I’m allergic.”

I don’t care that it is an old vine. It fit perfectly. 

The man (why hasn’t he told me his name yet) just seemed to get more and more enraged. He grabbed a knife from the cart and turned to me.  
“Wait!” I shouted as he turned to me.

“It’s time for your interrogation now” I said to him, concealing a smile.  
“What’s your name, favorite color and mother’s name?” I asked.

“Call me Doctor Harmon. Myself and Dr. Payne will be conducting your information and experimentation sessions. Now shut the fuck up. It’s time for you to give up some real answers.”

“You've got to be joking right? Dr. Harmon and Dr. Payne? Harming and Pain? Were you born for this or something?"

He turned, and with a razor sharp blade, cut my side, not touching anything vital, but still causing a lot of bleeding.

“Doc, that’s no fair” I whined. “You didn’t even ask me a question”

“First real question. Do you have any family?”

“Can’t you look it up, don’t you know my identity?”

“Ross has kept that under lock and key, for some reason, but I know I can get some info from you.”

Ross hasn’t told them my identity yet? Interesting. He must be planning on doing something or trying to not play all his cards yet. My eyes narrowed. I realized that keeping my identity secret was of the utmost importance. They may know my face, but if they don’t know my name, I can still protect the people around me. 

“Alright fine. I have a Father named Joe.”

“Joe who?”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Do these guys know what they keep setting me up for?  
“Joe Mama” I shouted at him as I doubled down in both laughter and pain from that cut.

“It seems like our little Spider needs to be broken a bit more first. Let’s proceed at a later time when he is, suitably ready.” Doc declared to his associates.

“So can I go to the sauna now?”

He couldn’t resist the urge to retaliate as he whirled back around and clocked me in the face as hard as he could. I immediately felt the bruising begin around my eye. It was going to be one hell of a black eye. Nothing a little spider-healing wouldn’t have fixed by the morning I knew. The guards unlatched me and dragged me back to my cell. I saw Jean’s face filled with worry before I fell asleep. At least I think I was asleep, I may have been unconscious, at this point I don’t know. I realized in my dazed state that my spider-healing would be blocked by the power dampening. This black eye was going to heal at a normal rate. Fuckkkkkk. This is not how I expected my day to go.


	2. Creating a Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No summary :)

Chapter 2: Creating a Connection  
Before I even opened my eyes, I could still feel the tender bruising around my eyes and the shooting pains in my side from the cut. I tried to remember what my current situation is. Oh, that’s right. I’ve been put in the body of Spider-Man in a very non-canon accurate situation where I’m being tortured in a prison by Thaddeus Ross. Obviously just any everyday occurrence. I barely had time to think about how the fuck this happened before being tortured. I came to the same conclusion as I had the previous day: ‘This is pretty fucked up, but hey, I’m now a genius and I’m Spider-Man. Might as well make something of it.’

With a resounding groan, I raised my head from my resting position and saw Jean asleep in her own cell. I sat quietly on my mattress waiting for her to wake up, only to realize that after 2 minutes I was already bored out of my mind. ‘I’m probably gonna need a lot more patience to stay here aren’t I?’ I resolved to try out my new spider powers. ‘I’ve seen this a thousand times, I can do it’ I thought, as I ran straight at the wall. I lifted my foot to try to place it on the side of the wall, only for it to slip to the side and for me to fall on my back and crash to the ground.

“Shiiittttt” I groaned as I forced myself into an upright position. I heard a laugh from the other cell and saw Jean stifling laughter with her hand. 

“So Peter, what were you trying to accomplish with that?” Jean asked with a smirk on her face.

I grumbled a quiet response.

“Sorry what was that?” Jean asked again, the smirk not leaving.

“I wanted to see if I could run on the walls.”

“With the power dampener on?”

I realized with a start that she was right. We have power dampeners. I basically wasn’t even able to be Spider-Man until I escaped. And I wasn’t going to leave Jean here, so until I found a way for us both to escape, I had to go through the fun process of being tortured and experimented on. I always thought becoming a comic book superhero would be a dream come true, but I have to be honest. This fucking sucks. 

As I considered an escape plan, one thought came to my mind.

“Jean, do you know how these power dampeners work?”  
“What do you mean?” Jean replied.

“Well, our powers are very different, so how are they able to just create a ‘power dampener’ that nullifies all abilities?”

“All the dampeners are tailored to the specific person. For example, for me they have a cerebral inhibitor which prevents my brain waves from interacting with the material world.”

My eyes narrowed as I thought about that. An idea came to my mind, but I pushed it aside for now. It wasn’t practical. For the second time in as many days, I realized that all I could do for now is wait, as annoyingly painful that would be. 

“Peter, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get your powers?”

“A school field trip.”

“…explain”

“I was on a field trip to the science company Oscorp when I kinda sorta maybe snuck into a classified area. They had been trying to create a super-soldier serum, and they had been using it on spiders. One of those spiders got out and bit me. I was sick as hell for a week but one day I woke up and could stick to things and was jacked. The spider who bit me died and apparently, I wasn’t dead, even though I was supposed to be. Oscorp hadn’t perfected their serum yet. The spider had DNA that mixed with my own making me a mutate.”

“Did you have a reason for becoming Spider-Man? I mean, apart from the powers.”

Now, I knew Ben wasn’t my real uncle, but with Peter’s memories, I remember everything, and it almost felt like he was. I remember Peter feeling powerless, guilty and angry – I remember it all. I had a feeling that I was going to continue being Spider-Man when I got out, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe I could use Peter’s genius for technological advancements that would help the world? These meshed thoughts was the weirdest experience I have ever felt. I was Peter Parker, I was myself, I was both of us, I was neither. I’d have to figure out the meaning of life, I guess, but c’mon what the hell does that even mean? Has anyone figured out the meaning of life? Great. Another impossible task. Just like escaping here. I was lost in my thoughts when I was startled out of them by the sound of Jean clearing her throat. I realized that she had been looking at me expectantly, still awaiting that answer. 

So I told her. I told her about Richard and Mary, but honestly, I didn’t know what they did in this life (maybe they were S.H.I.E.L.D? Oscorp? There are way too many possibilities and theories). I told her about Uncle Ben. I told her about catching his killer. I told her how it all boiled down to one quote from Uncle Ben. “With Great Power comes Great Responsibility.”   
Oddly enough, I didn’t feel cheesy or cliché saying it. I felt proud and respectful, and I honestly didn’t know whether that was because of Peter, me, or both. What I didn’t tell Jean though was about not being the real Peter, the real Spider-Man. I didn’t warn her about the Phoenix, I didn’t tell her about Xavier’s school, Magneto, anything. I figured that having knowledge of the future could: make me sound like a lunatic, make her go crazy from paranoia, basically screw-up whatever storyline Is being played out, or a thousand other issues. I couldn’t see any positive coming out of that. 

“I’m sorry that happened.” Jean said, eyes downcast.

“I’ve made my peace with it. He was like a father to me, and I couldn’t save him, but by being Spider-Man, I can honor him.” I responded. And with that statement, I realized that I was going to continue being Spider-Man. If I could protect people, then I had to. But maybe this time, with my knowledge of the future and the universe, along with Peter’s genius, I could do a lot more. I could stop the worst events that would happen – I could try to protect everyone. It would take copious amounts of work, but I owed it to these people, because otherwise I would be the man who let thousands, if not millions die. And if Thanos and Endgame occur, I would be letting trillions die. I simply couldn’t let that happen, even if this world is fake in my mind, because right now, it’s not. I am actually here. I will not be just a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but I will be Spider-Man, and I will try to save those who I can.  
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“Is Selvig helping?” Fury questioned.

“Yes Sir, we may be able to start Phase 2 soon” Agent Hill responded in turn.

“Any headway on Spider-Man?” Fury said, grimacing. Fury had this complex where he had to know everything about everyone at all times, and the fact that someone he was actively watching was managing to avoid him angered him to no end. 

“Surprisingly no. Crime rates in New York have started to rise in his absence, and he’s only been gone a few days. Once word gets out that he’s completely off the grid, we should expect a surge in crime. He has brought the rate down significantly over the last few years. I would be wary however, his line of work tends to create copycats who are far from the real thing, much less dangerous, but also much less restraint.” Hill said, with some unease. She was similar enough to Fury in that regards – she had immense frustrations at not being able to locate her target.

Fury gave her a quick nod before turning back to face out of the main control room of the helicarrier and into the vast ocean.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
“Hey Red, do you know if these guards are sane? They all have this deranged, sadistic expression and honestly it’s kind of freaky” I called out. 

“Red?” She replied.

“You like it?” I smiled on the inside, knowing that she very much would not like it.

“No, I hate it actually. Please never use it again.” Jean said sardonically, a hint of a smile tracing her face.

“No can do Red, at least not until I get a better name for you.” I replied with a smirk.

“Jean doesn’t work?”

“It’s so formal, and that’s no good, so Red it is.” I responded happily.

“You seem way too happy about this. Also, we’re in a prison. How the hell are you so positive?” Jean snarked.

“Being depressed won’t help anyone. Also, I don’t want to be controlled by anyone – the guards, Ross, anyone, and by remaining positive and annoying them beyond what they think is possible, I can be a nuisance and not break.”

“It must be nice not being controlled” Jean muttered under her breath, but I still managed to pick it up. 

“Who’s been controlling you? Ross? What has he done? That bastard!” I replied angrily.

Jean paused for a moment and then just giggled before speaking.  
“I wasn’t talking about Ross, I was talking about my parents, but it’s nice to know you got so angry for me” Jean tried to hide a smirk but failed miserably, her smile shining through.  
I grumbled and muttered something under my breath.

“Sorry, what was that?” Jean asked, the smile not leaving her face.

“Nothing” I shot her a mock glare crossing my arms to convey my mock annoyance. “Did you say your parents? How do they control you?”

“They don’t support my mutant powers and won’t let me study what I want. Not that it matters in here.” Jean said bitterly.   
“Don’t give up hope Jean, we’ll both get out of this and then you can go study whatever you want. Out of curiosity, what disciplines are you interested in?”

“Engineering and mechanics. My parents seem to think that a woman can’t be an engineer, so they didn’t fund my college, which meant that I wasn’t exactly able to go anywhere. I ended up being taken by Ross the day after I graduated anyways.” Jean said, the bitterness leaving her face, but lingering in her eyes.

I brightened considerably upon hearing her disciplines. With my new genius in the fields of physics, mechanics and chemistry I had that much more in common with Jean. I realized with a start that I hadn’t actually seen what Peter had been up to before I got thrown into his body. 

I quickly parsed his memories to see that he had graduated High School at 16 and Columbia at 18 with a double-major in mechanical engineering and biophysics. He only chose Columbia because MIT was too far away and he wanted to continue being Spider-Man. After graduating he (or I?) stayed in the city and worked at Horizon Labs after helping Max Modell in a café. He had his own personal lab and no real requirements – although I’m assuming a long-time absence may not be looked upon very well. 

“I can help with your engineering stuff! I already work in similar scientific disciplines! If all goes well, you shouldn’t need to rely on your parents as well.” I said enthusiastically.

Jean just smiled and shook her head at my enthusiasm.

“Did you seriously just say ‘if all goes well’?” She chuckled. “We are trapped in a max security prison where we are being experimented on, and you say ‘if all goes well’ as if that’s a possibility. I don’t know if I should embrace your positivity or leave you alone to your insanity.” She smiled good-naturedly to make sure I knew she was joking.

“Well unlike some people Red, I like having hope” I replied in turn.

Jean was tuning out for a second when something came to her. “You said you were 19, right? How do you already work in the field?”

“I had graduated early, but no one wanted an 18-year-old working for them in their labs. They all thought I would be an intern and get coffee, but I had already gotten my degree, so that was out of the question. One day, I was at a café getting a coffee in between job interviews, when I saw a man getting extremely frustrated. Naturally, I went over to see if he needed any help, and I saw him working on a design for a more flexible bandage, which coincidentally is somewhat similar in design to my webs, relying on the use of a similar polymer, so I helped him out. He looked at me in shock, as he was having trouble finding which polymer would work for it, and then asked for my age and story. After hearing my story he introduced himself as Max Modell, aka the founder of Horizon Labs. He offered a job and the rest, as they say is history.”

Jean stared at me. I recalled our first conversation and thought this was perfect payback time.

“So, are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to speak?”

Jean evidently recalled that interaction as she broke out of her trance and a smile went up her face. I thought, not for the first time, that she was absolutely gorgeous, even without any make-up or real effort put into her appearance. She took a second before speaking.

“I…. I don’t even know what to say to that. I feel like an idiot now. I mean god, you are a literal genius.” Her eyes downcast.

“Red, I still don’t know you that well. I mean we literally have known each other for like 2 days, and although we’ve bonded over our shared experience in this hell-hole, I don’t know that much about you yet. I can tell though, that you are extremely intelligent and capable and have no reason to feel like an idiot, ever.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better” Jean replied, but her eyes had brightened considerably.

“I swear to you that I am not.” I wasn’t lying. I know Jean, and in this brief time together, I could tell she had a good wit about her as well as actually being intelligent. I don’t know how I knew that exactly, but I had this sense that she was extremely intelligent. Maybe it’s because I had feelings for… nope not going there. Especially not while we’re in this place. “Red, I can tell you are intelligent. And extremely resilient. The fact that you haven’t gone insane being cooped up here for the past 6 months alone speaks to that fact. You have no reason to ever feel incompetent to anyone.” 

‘Especially considering the Phoenix Force chilling inside you.’ I thought. ‘Shit. I’m going to have to tell her about that when we get out aren’t I. Not looking forward to explaining how I know that.’  
Jean didn’t reply, but I could tell from her body language that she had taken my words to heart, at least a little bit. She seemed more full of energy than I had ever seen before, as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders. 

A few minutes after our conversation concluded, I heard footsteps marching down the prison wing. This time, they seemed to be angling towards Jean instead of me. ‘That won’t do.’ I considered what I could do, before coming to a conclusion. As the two guards approached Jean’s cell, I called out.

“Which one of you is dumb, and which one is dumber?” I asked the guards.

They turned around with a look of pure disdain on their face.

“I mean, I know you’re both idiots, but who’s dumber? I personally think that tall, dark and not so handsome over there is dumber, but if you would like to make an argument that your short friend is dumber, I’d be willing to listen” I looked around them to see Jean watching the exchange with interest, and perhaps a hint of amusement. 

I noticed that the looks on their face had started shifting from disdain to disgust. I continued my onslaught. 

“Hey you, yeah tall guy, I’m talking about you. Can I have some of your lunch? It seems that you are having quite a high caloric intake. I’d be careful about your blood-sugar man, it’s a common problem among Americans especially. If your body starts rejecting the insulin or it lacks enough, then you’ll have a high blood sugar and it could lead to the clogging of blood vessels or even a myocardial infarction, or a heart attack, and we wouldn’t want that would we?” I smiled sweetly at him. In fact, the man seemed very fit, with only a hint of fat. What I couldn’t know however, was that those few meager pounds of fat weighed on him (mentally). He prided himself on being the most athletic and cruel, and by pointing out an imperfection, I had set him off. His lips curled into a snarl as he disabled my cell and stormed in, picking me up and throwing me against the wall.

My goal had been to distract them from Jean, so I guess, technically, mission accomplished. Nicely done. I would pat myself on the back, except for the fact that my hands were now being restrained by the shorter one, as the taller one pummeled me further into the wall as I sank to my knees on the ground. ‘I can take this’ I thought. ‘At least so Jean doesn’t have to.’

“Let’s take this one to Doc Harmon, he could use some more conditioning. I don’t think he’ll miss the girl; he seems extremely interested in getting information about the amazing Spider-Man. Scorn and mockery laced his voice as he said my alter-ego’s name. 

And with that, I was dragged off to the torture rooms again. Sorry, ‘interrogation’ rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for getting this chapter done y’all. Hopefully the next few will be in a more timely manner, but no promises (sorry). I’ve got a lot of ideas and this story should turn out to be really fun, but it may take some time between updates. I think the relationship here may be a slow-burn with a fair bit of pain laced in. Very sad ☹. If you can, please leave a review. Obviously, not a requirement, but those things are like drugs to us authors lmao.


	3. Chapter 3: Under Payne of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No summaries here :).

Warning: Torture included. I will try to keep it from getting too dark but no promises.   
Tall guard and short guard dragged me to Dr. Harmon for the second time. As we arrived in his room, he took a glance at me and raised his eyebrow at the guard in a question.

'Why him?;

“He was making a nuisance of himself sir, I thought it would be helpful if we broke him of his will sooner rather than later.” The tall guard said gruffly.

“Well, I’m not going to pass up the chance to play with my new toy.” Harmon gave a sadistic smile. Oh goody. I almost forgot about those.

The guards dragged me to the table where I was chained down and prepared for a friendly information gathering session. Harmon wheeled in his cart of tools again. 

“Hey Harmon! No upgrades I see, still using the cart. Don’t you realize how cliché that is? I thought I gave you a friendly critique on that last time, but I see it meant nothing. It seems I may have to keep my advice to myself this time?” I gave him the biggest smile I could muster.

“That would be a welcome change of pace” He snarked back.

“Now that you said that, I can’t just oblige by that. To think, I was so ready to just accept my fate and be silent, but now that I know it annoys you, I have to keep going!” My voice filled with fake excitement. I had come to the conclusion that the more happy I was, the more annoyed they got at me, and the more they focused on breaking me. That would mean two things. One, they would leave Jean alone. Two, I would get more time to piss them off. And it’s not like I could stop myself, it’s just so goddamn funny to see their malice lined faces contort with more anger to the point where their facial expressions began to lack meaning and just became weird. 

“You will break. They all do.” Harmon seemed to proclaim this in pride. I took a second to think. Maybe he was just stupid? Because from what I know, there are 3 prisoners here, including me. I’m not broken, I’m pretty sure Jean isn’t broken, at least not totally, and if I could help it she never would be. All I knew about the last prisoner was that he seemed to be insane, so if he had been broken, it didn’t say too much. Yet Harmon didn’t seem to be a complete novice either. In all likelihood, he had some experience with torturing people in the past, but he wasn’t adept at finding what could truly break a person, mentally and physically. He thought that simply inflicting excruciating levels of pain would do it, but most people would either pass out, build up a tolerance, or simply take it, especially those who had been trained for situations like this. Furthermore, past a certain threshold of pain, people simply accept their pain and if they have enough mental fortitude, can resist the torture. Obviously, there were ways of slowly battering down those defenses, but many would bring the prisoner to the brink of death and it was easy for those without training to go too far. As I said as well, those are much slower and more ineffective than what a professional could do.

It takes someone who can read people to an extreme level to identify the breaking points quickly, possibly someone like Black Widow could, but even other trained interrogators were able to identify it after some time. Harmon seemed to be inexperienced in that regard- part of it coming from his own sadism if I had to guess. By treating it as a source of fun rather than as a job, he was not only inefficient, but he easily lost focus and was prone to going overboard – while I was curious what that may entail, I didn’t particularly like the idea of dying so I may have to temper my personality ever so slightly. All in all, Harmon was an inexperienced interrogator who relished in the pain of the victim rather than having any sort of training in gathering information.

Not to mention that the information he wanted, Ross already had, and so, he was going against Ross’s orders with this interrogation. I doubt Ross cared very much though, he seemed to lack a conscience or a spine. I wouldn’t be surprised if he created the Ice-Box half out of fun. Knowing Ross though, he definitely had some super-soldier aspirations. To think this was just days after Blonsky made me realize just how insane Ross truly was, because only a madman would create the Abomination and then think it’s a good idea to turn around and look for another super-soldier project.   
I barely noticed when Harmon took out his first tool for the day, a classic sharp surgical knife.

“Spider-Man, how did you gain your powers?”

This line of questioning seemed much more on par with what Ross wanted rather than what the Doctor wanted. He didn’t seem to be under any duress though, in fact, I’m sure this was solely because he promised results and needed a little evidence to show progress. 

“I found a spider and started worshipping it. I created an entire religion devoted to praying to it as a god. After 47 days of prayers it granted my request and gave me the powers.” I chattered on in mock excitement. I apparently lacked the self-control to not annoy him. I have no regrets.

I saw the good doctor go through various emotions, beginning with surprise, slowly shifting to confusion and shock, before finally ending with anger as he realized I was messing with him. To be honest I was surprised he believed it for even a second, it isn’t exactly the most plausible story. And in this universe, from what Peter heard on the news only Iron Man, Hulk and Thor have been exposed and most people don’t know about Thor’s origins, meaning that the weird origin stories that would make mine seem more plausible don’t exist yet. Tough luck, but I wasn’t exactly trying to convince him. Even if I told him the truth of a radioactive Spider bite, I doubt it would seem plausible either. All that, combined with the fact that he was a complete sadist, means that torture was going to happen regardless of what I said, even if it was the truth. Good thing I stopped Jean from being pulled here, I can’t fathom the idea of someone else going through this, and Jean especially seems too pure to face this madman. I don’t why I thought that, having met her only days ago, but I felt some need to protect her, more so than others. I shook off that feeling and dragged my thoughts back to the real world. Just in time for him to begin his interrogation techniques, cough cough torture.

Harmon pressed the knife to my upper torso and made a laceration from my pectoral down to my flank, right above the hip. It was relatively shallow, and the knife was sharp, so the pain wasn’t terrible, but I definitely could feel it, along with the warm blood that began to trickle down my skin before contacting with the table.  
See while I was smart, and so was Peter, neither of us had been truly tortured before. I knew a lot about torture and interrogation methods, hence why I was able to realize what his motivations and experience were, but I hadn’t actually been tortured. This body however, has taken numerous beatings. In fact, thinking about what Peter was doing before I was here it seems that he lacked any sort of combat training, might have to do something about that when I get out of here. ‘Wow, I really do ramble on don’t I, even in my brain.’ The number of beatings that Peter had took were still imprinted on me and this body, so while I had no experience with torture, I did have Peter’s loads of experience of being beaten and battered, so this wasn’t too bad yet. Yet being the key word if I had to guess.

“Want to change your answer?” Harmon snarled at me.   
“Fine. I’m a mutant.”  
“We checked your DNA. You clearly aren’t a mutant, although your DNA is screwed up, you're a mutate. So Spider-Man tell us, where are your powers from?”

I cut him off. “Wait, you have my DNA? How the hell don’t you know my identity yet?” 

‘That’s basic logic, so I’m not risking providing them with any new methods to find my identity. If he is stupid enough to answer, I’ll have some very important information that seems to be missing.’ I thought.

“Ross, for some reason, thought it would be good to remove all traces of your identity from the internet, government databases and anything else.”

That response brought two things to my mind.   
One that struck me again was the sheer incompetence of Dr. Harmon as an interrogator. That was two-fold in reasoning. First as a general rule of thumb is that you never provide information to an enemy especially when you don’t know it’s vitality. The second portion builds on that. By providing an information or ceding to a prisoner’s request, you slowly shift the balance of power, reducing your own authority as an interrogator. Rookie mistake. 

The second idea that hit me was Ross’s reasoning. Obviously, I had to still protect my identity so the majority of criminals couldn’t use Aunt May against me. Huh, when did I start thinking of her as my Aunt? No matter, point still stands. Even if Ross could, that was still better than the entire world and all of Spidey Cabal of Villains hunting down anyone Peter/I knew. I’m really going to need to resolve this identity crisis soon. Deferring that temporarily, if Ross was hiding my identity, he probably wants to use me and knowing Ross, he wants me, Jean, and whoever else he could get as a personal weapon or perhaps a way to make more weapons for himself but under the guise of the government. That type of protection could prove dangerous. That a psycho like Ross could use the façade of working for the government was disturbing to say the least. 

Who knew that I thought best when I was being tortured? Is that a thing? Mid-torture clarity? I doubt it. Was wondering about mid-torture clarity a proof or denial of its existence?   
I forced myself to pause for a second and think about my tangent. Yup, mid-torture clarity is not a thing. Maybe a mid-torture psychotic episode or existential crisis, but not clarity. The good thing about an analytical mind with a rambling tendency is that it can be quite distracting. It certainly distracted me from the fact that there was a knife digging into my abs. Oh. Now that I noticed it I could feel it. The cuts of the knife were tracing my six-pack. Oh right, I had a six-pack. The benefits of being a hero. That almost negates all the cuts that were digging into me. Almost.

I finally snapped back to reality as the not so good doctor withdrew the knife. I tried to remember what he asked before I remembered that he didn’t. More confirmation I was dealing with a sadist. Oh goody. My mind flashed for a second to a thought of him doing this to Jean and I came to a grim resolve. I was going to bury him under here when I escaped. 

The interrogation session continued as before. He asked a question, I gave him a fake or joking answer, he would cut me, we would move on. By the end of the session, he got absolutely no information out of me, and my torso and legs were lined with cuts, a gauge in my thigh going deeper than the rest from when he had briefly lost control of his temper.

I was dumped back in my cell and fell asleep almost immediately, but not before seeing Jean’s worried expressions.

I woke up almost a day later and after Jean’s shock at the torture subsided (apparently, she never had that. At least that was something), we continued to talk. I learned more about her childhood, hearing about her role on sports teams and cheerleading and being a straight A student. In every sense of the word, she seemed to be perfect. The perfect child that her parents condemned for not falling into their dated ideas of what she should be doing with her life. Idiots.

She in turn learned more about me/Peter Parker me. Midtown High, Columbia and her favorite topic: Spider-Man, although she did seem to have a high level of interest into my work at Horizon Labs. While she wasn’t able to grasp the high-level mechanics, much less the cross-field of biomechanics and biophysics, she was much more intelligent than a normal high-school student. Indeed, Jean had done some extra work and research into those fields when her parents weren’t paying attention. 

From what I gathered, while her parents were kind in the simplest manner of the word and never would try to abuse her emotionally or physically, they were controlling bastards. My words not hers.   
So, the next few days traveled on. One day after the other, fed slop, shoved along into cold showers, with intermittent trips to Dr. Harmon. Until one day, I was blessed with being taken to the other Doctor. Dr. Payne he was called. 

Payne prided himself on being a scientist and biologist, but for all his intellectual fervor, he was thrown out of medical school for seeming to lack the remorse and empathy to communicate with patients. In a manner that should be surprising to none, this removal stymied none of his apathy, rather, it enhanced it. His combination of intelligence and ruthlessness had made him a prime candidate as a doctor on several CIA black ops before they too had to remove him. He had a tendency for getting carried away and lacking subtlety, so the CIA had put him in a cell where no one could ever talk to him again. Or so they thought. Payne had been stewing in a cell at a blacksite when Ross had brought him out to give him the role as lead experimentation specialist at a secret prison that not even the US Government knew existed. Needless to say, Payne was ecstatic at the chance to be funded in his experiments of inquisition as he was so fond of calling them. I would come to think of them as more torturous than the actual torture of Dr. Harmon was.

The routine of getting there and being set up was much the same. I was dragged out of my cell by guards after throwing a few not so subtle barbs. Jean would look worried. I was chained to a table. The difference was this time, Dr. Payne walked out. He was short, standing at 5’7, with his slightly rounded body complimented poorly by his scrunched-up face. Suddenly, his features cleared as his eyes opened wide with a crazed excitement that worried me, more than the sadistic smiles from everyone else had. 

“So Spider-Man,” he hissed, “let’s test out that healing factor shall we?”

I had to forcibly stop myself from gulping in fear.   
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Aboard The Shield Helicarrier:

“Hill,” Fury barked “What’s going on with Project: Hibernation?”  
“Nothing yet Sir, but I’ve heard several optimistic things coming from up north” Hill responded.  
“Optimism does me no good, we need to complete the Project. Without it, the Avengers Initiative is dead in the water, especially without Spider-Man. The team already seems understaffed as all hell, and you know what the council uses as last resorts in emergencies” Fury said grimly.   
“I’ll let you know if we have any updates sir”  
“In the meantime, has Natalie Rushman made contact with Stark? Fury questioned, with a smirk gracing his face.   
“Oh yes, their legal department just got a major boost” Hill replied, the smirk mirrored on her own face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

To test my healing factor, they had to adjust my power dampener, only turning off the device that inhibited the healing factor. Apparently, they had done so by having something that would constantly attack my immune system, requiring the body’s full extra energy and thus limiting me to the healing factor of someone normal. Payne had bragged about this tech, apparently it was one of his own ideas.   
‘Great, now we have intelligent psychopaths, my stay just keeps on getting better and better’ I thought to myself.  
Or so I thought I had. I actually spoke those words to his face, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I doubt it would affect his, what I’m assuming will be, callous treatment of myself. Annoyingly though, Payne seemed to take this as a compliment. Psycho.

“We’ll begin by seeing whether his healing factor extends to internal wounds” Payne intonated to his assistants before injecting me with something. My arm felt as if it were caught in a raging fire as whatever he had injected began to take hold and felt as if it were trying to strangle my immune system from the inside out. The torture began to increase as I felt a war raging between the poison (I’m assuming) and my immune system. After a minute, it subsided as quickly as it came on, the pain disappearing. I let out a pent-up breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding in until my gaze settled on Payne. He didn’t seem remorseful, in fact, he seemed almost amused. 

“It seems that the Spider-healing works with his entire immune system, not just clotting factors. I suspected as much. That poison would have paralyzed him for at least a day if he had a regular immune system.” Payne sent a contemptuous gaze my way, yet somehow also seeming enamored by the results. While everyone else in here seemed to be sadistic and sometimes took pleasure in watching my suffering, Payne seemed to be on another level of crazy. Whatever this group was trying to do, whoever they worked for, they were exceedingly dangerous, if only for their resources. To establish an entirely secret functioning prison with full personnel? That is dangerous. Just like I promised Dr. Harmon, I would bury Payne here as well, or at least put him down. They were a danger to everyone, even innocents like Jean and I’m assuming that IX-1, the other mutate is also innocent, however insane they are supposed to be. 

Payne decided it would be prudent to continue with his experiments. This time, he wanted to see if my bones would realign properly, he said. I realized what he was going to do with horror, and I could do naught but watch. However, I had also concluded that by proceeding without the same snark I had used on Harmon, I was encouraging him. Before he could start the bone-breaking process, I felt energized and thought that a few barbs would be good. I knew for a fact that most of the people like him would have at least a superiority complex, or some form of self-aggrandizement, probably coupled with a deep-seated hatred towards someone, usually from their past who seemed to be better than them. Oftentimes, they had unresolved issues towards family members as well. Maybe if I could just do some needling, I could annoy him enough for him to send me back for now. Of course, what I couldn’t know is one of the foremost reasons that Payne was removed from the CIA was because of his temper issues, which was worse than that of Harmon, who had already punched me as hard as he could. 

“Do you have any preference as to which bone you would like us to break first?” Payne asked, his smile gleaming.

However, I couldn’t be deterred now so I responded with considerable cheek and an equally bright smile. “Of course, your cranium would be preferred!”

Payne reared back for a second as if he hadn’t expected me to respond. It seems that the communication in this prison was lacking between the personnel, because if he had talked to any guards or to Harmon, he would know that I had this tendency to actively piss off everyone who tried to do anything to me that I didn’t like. He recovered quickly and glared down at me; his gaze laced with venom. I got this weird feeling that he was trying to act intimidating, but I didn’t know why I felt that, until I started looking at his body language. He was a slightly rounded, short guy, so to be intimidating he tried to compensate. He stood on his toes, sucked in his stomach and thrust his chest out. He failed miserably, leading me to laugh uncontrollably. 

“You laugh?!” Payne exclaimed in anger. “You are just a little boy, and I am a shark. I will KILL you.” He bared his teeth.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh my god. A big bad shark! Is that a threat? I’m so scared! Also, it’d be much more dangerous if you said you were a falling airplane part. Did you know that more people die from falling airplane parts than sharks every year? Pretty weird right?” I flashed him a grin that cut right through his venomous glare. 

“Let’s begin by breaking the fibula on his right side.” Payne dictated, actively ignoring me. 

I tried a gambit to anger him with his superiority complex more. I didn’t know anything about him, so this was a risk and a guess, but something about him made me think it was going to be accurate.

“Hey Payne, can you get your brother to do this? I think he’s better at this than you.” 

Payne turned around with a snarl on his face and a knife in his hand. Looks like I was right. He had a brother who seemed to be better than him and it angered him endlessly. Mission: Success. 

“You know nothing!” Payne shouted at me.

There was another risk I could take, that could possibly take him the maximum possible anger level. Fuck it, why the hell not, he was already going to break all my bones.

“I may not, but at least that’s what your mother said. She was so proud of your brother, she said he was amazing, so yeah, I want him to do this. At least he’s good at his job.” I said dismissively, only to enrage him. Payne, unsurprisingly, had a superiority complex towards everyone, yet was felt to be the disappointment of his family.

Without another word, Payne’s face contorted into that of a murderer as he took his knife and drove it through my gut, clipping several internal organs. I felt a flash of pain, before it subsided as my eyes closed. Even my Spider-healing wouldn’t be enough to stop this. 

A/N  
Don't worry, it's not over lmao. I was just wondering if y'all would rather have it be just a solo pairing or a multiple women thing. I would make it polyamorous rather than a harem (i.e everyone in it would love each other rather than just be individual relationships). Also I'd limit it to a maximum of 3 other partners, 4 including Peter. The Jean Grey one is happening regardless, and right now, if I decide to add another, it'd probably be Ororo Munroe. That being said, I just want people's ideas on this. Would y'all want the single Peter/Jean pair, or Peter/Multiple, and if multiple, give me ideas on who the other 2 could be. Cool? Cool. Leave a review with what you want to see - if it matters to you.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N  
> This is my first ever fanfiction. I’d appreciate reviews and feedback – positive or critical – just keep it nice in the critical ones please 😊. This isn’t going to be a short fic, and updates will come at random times, hopefully never going more than 2 weeks without one. If you want me to tone down the Gen Z vibes at the end I definitely can, I just felt that Peter memeing the shit out of people is hilarious. \
> 
> I would also like to credit “The Spider” for giving me the base premise of the S.I and not being able to explain the situation to other people (that’ll come later). There of course will be some similarities considering what I have planned for it – and if it becomes too similar please let me know, although I think at least for now, it is unique. I don’t wanna be accused of plagiarism so in the future, notify me if it gets too similar. Have a great day everyone!


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